


The Definitions of Words

by misscam



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-21
Updated: 2005-10-21
Packaged: 2017-10-17 13:04:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/177131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misscam/pseuds/misscam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose tries to get the Doctor to define what she is to him. The Doctor resists. Rose persists. [Nine/Rose, hints of Ten/Rose]</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Definitions of Words

**Author's Note:**

> Dictionary definitions are all from my beloved _Oxford Dictionary and Thesaurus_. This fic was originally intended to just be amusing fluff, but angst reared its naughty head. I know, I'm hopeless. Definitely spoils "Parting of the Ways". lotus79 insisted on smuttier parts. Blame her for those.

The Definitions of Words  
by misscam

Disclaimer: Characters are the property of BBC. The words belong to the English language. The naughty mind is all mine, though.

II

 **define**  
 _v._ **1** state or explain precisely **2** mark the boundary of

II

"Come on, give me a word."

"Friends?" the Doctor suggested.

"Friends you borrow clothes from and watch movies with."

"We watch movies."

"No, we _are_ the movies. Saving the world, running for our lives, having enough gadgets to overload even a James Bond movie..."

"What's wrong with my gadgets?"

"Nothing, when they work. We're not shagging..."

"Oi! Doesn't mean we never will," he broke in, but she plunged on.

"... so you're not my boyfriend. We're not in some kind of weird Luke-Leia sibling-snogging relationship since clearly, you can't stand my mum..."

"She can't stand me! I'm perfectly happy to like her if she'd just do more of what I told her to."

"I'm sure she'd say the same," Rose said dryly. "And anyway, you don't have a lightsabre and waving around your sonic screwdriver and making whooshing noises does not count."

The Doctor looked slightly guilty at that. "You just don't understand the artistic value of my whooshing. What's wrong with 'companion', anyway?"

"Nothing, if you're a dog. Or a handbook. In which case, they're perfectly good titles for tag-alongs."

"Ah," the Doctor said, and now he grinned slightly. "You're on about this because Nedegic called you a tag-along, aren't you?"

"Maybe."

"Rose, he was an alien overlord wannnabe trying to blow us both up. I don't think the truth value in much he said apart from 'I want to blow you both up!' was particularly high."

"Well, then, give me a word. What am I?"

"You're a very annoying human and I'm the very annoyed alien who is not having this conversation."

And with that, he stalked off, ducking deeper into the TARDIS where she knew she'd only find him if he wanted to - or the TARDIS itself wanted to, though keeping the two apart could be a skill in itself.

"And what's this about 'doesn't mean we never will'? Doctor? Doctor!" she called after him.

"Whooooosh!" he called back and she had to fight back a smile. Even as a pain in the ass he was cute. And she could almost swear the TARDIS was making a weak 'whoosh' too. She knew watching Star Wars in the console room while the Doctor had been tinkering about had been a bad idea. Now she'd given them both ideas.

"Oh, shut it," she said irritably and wandered off. This argument was not over, that she was certain of. She would prevail.

II

 **persist**  
 _v._ **1** continue firmly or obstinately **2** continue to exist

II

"So Doctor, care to tell me what I'm now?"

"What?"

"Not friend, not boyfriend, not companion..."

"Rose, this is really not the time."

Really not the time was on the top of a Regalian warship, bomb ticking away and the Doctor trying to disarm it. Which was proving harder than he had bragged it would be. She had really suspected it to be so. When the Doctor said something was going to be simple, she made sure she had her best running shoes on.

"You're the one who said you could run parallel process in that 'simply brilliant' mind of yours. Let's see... Mentor?" she suggested. He gave her a wounded look.

"Rose, you make me sound old!"

"You are 900 years old."

"Prime of my life," he insisted and she gave him a look-over. Leather jacket making his shoulders seem broader, sweater clinging to skin, trousers no problem fitting... Prime of something, at least.

"Okay, so not mentor. Father-figure?"

He scoffed.

"No, you're right, that would be creepy," she said thoughtfully. "Greek creepy. Partner? No, a bit too 'Tyler, Doctor, TARDIS and associates'. I don't look good in a wig."

"You look good as you are," he said simply, but before she could even react, he went on. "But what you will be unless you take my hand and jump with me now, is a thousand pieces scattered in the wind. And then I'd have no one to annoy me while saving the world."

"Wouldn't want that."

"Never."

They jumped.

Life went on.

II

 **triangular**  
 _adj._ **1** shaped like a triangle **2** involving three people

II

"Jack, what do you think?"

"Oh, no," the Doctor muttered and lifted his eyes to the TARDIS ceiling.

"What do I think about what?"

"What I am to the Doctor. He doesn't want to be a mentor cos that makes him sound old and father-figure is just creepy."

"What is wrong with companion, seriously?" the Doctor insisted and Rose crossed her arms.

Jack seemed to take in the situation and smirked. "Whatever you want to be Rose, I don't think he stands a chance."

"Hah!"

"He would say that," the Doctor countered, "since you're wearing a tight skirt and batting your eyelashes at him. If I did that, he'd be agreeing with me."

"You're welcome to try," Jack replied.

"Please, don't. My eyesight might never recover," Rose muttered and wandered off, but she could hear their voices drift along the TARDIS and all the way to her still.

"Thanks, Jack."

"Anything for you, Doctor, even keeping your... What is she, exactly?"

"Oh, don't you start too."

"And what does that make me?"

"Oh, shut up."

She smiled faintly. Three could play the game two could too, even if it made for some complicated maths at times.

II

 **entice**  
 _v._ attract by offering something pleasant

II

"Rose?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you sitting on my bed?"

"Same reason I've tied your hands to the headboard."

"Oh."

The Doctor, having taken a nap after tinkering with the TARDIS. Rose Tyler, on a mission. Jack, blissfully asleep in his own bed. The maths were good.

Pushing up his sweater, she scraped her nails across his skin and watched him shudder lightly. Smooth skin, slightly warm to the touch. Warmer still as she kissed it, making a trail of lips to skin up his chest.

"Got a word for me yet, Doctor?"

"I..." he closed his eyes as she moved her lips to his, kissing him lightly. She could feel him straining to meet the kiss properly, clearly wanting to pull her even closer. She could feel a moan in his throat and frustration as he tugged at her bottom lip, wanting to kiss her deeply. Instead, she pulled back.

"Word, Doctor?"

"Companion..." he insisted, but trailed off as she effectively tore her top off. For a moment, he just seemed to take her in, his gaze travelling hungrily over her skin where his hands could not. She leaned down, putting her elbows on his chest and resting on them, watching his eyes search her face.

"You did say it didn't mean we never would."

"I did," he replied softly, and managed to lift his head enough to kiss her neck. "You'll still be my companion, though."

"Better... word..." she muttered, feeling as if wisps of flames were marking her, burning her. She had always known he would burn her. She hadn't known it would feel this good.

"Free me, and I'll get you a whole dictionary and you can try every word until we find one that fits."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

She fumbled slightly as she freed him, but finally the knots gave way and he laced one hand in her hair, the other cupping a breast and she arched breathlessly into the touch.

"You sure you want this, then?" he asked softly. "I might be a fantastic shag..."

She smirked slightly, poking a finger into his rib. "That remains to be seen, Doctor."

"...but you know what I am. You know my life."

"I know this," she replied and kissed him. The taste of him was almost familiar, almost human, but just not quite. It didn't matter, it was hers to feel and explore. Skin to skin, they were the same, her and him.

She clung to him, digging her nails into his back as he sunk into her. Hers now. Hers, hers, hers, heartbeats never dying.

"Rose," he whispered.

He didn't need any other words as long as he had her name, she thought and let go.

II

 **end**  
 _n._ 1 extreme limit, furthest point or part **2** final part **3** destruction, death **4** objective  
 _v._ to bring or come to an end

II

 _He hurts._

 _I know, Rose. But we have to save him. Our Doctor. We are the Bad Wolf, you and me, together. We end the Time War._

 _I know. I understand now. I am, oh, I am. I'm everything. I'm every word ever spoken. Every life ever given, every death ever had. Every star born in fire, every star died in flames. Everything he can feel._

 _We are that, Rose. We are._

 _He's kissing us. He's kissing... Me. I am. I'm Rose. I'm... Doctor?_

 _I'm here, Rose. Just for a moment, I'm here. Now let go. I won't let this be your end._

 _I... I am... I'm forgetting._

 _I'll remember. I always do. Let go, Rose._

There were no words left to cling to.

Fall then.

 _I'm Rose._

There was that.

She fell, and he caught her, just as she forgot.

II

 **redefine**  
 _v._ define again or differently

II

"Rose?"

She had somehow gotten used to the new look, the new face, the new skin, even the new hand that still seemed to reach for hers. But not the new voice.

"Yeah?"

He pushed the book at her with something almost like embarrassment. "I promised you this."

Her first instinct was to drop it. This was something he promised her, the old he, not this new voice. Not this... But she saw the hope in his eyes and felt her hands clutch onto the dictionary almost by a will of their own.

She still didn't want to hurt him.

"I got Samuel Johnson to sign it," he added and watched her face intently.

They never had found that perfect word that fit, she thought. Though he would probably claim his 'companion' had won by default.

"I still like 'companion'," he said and she couldn't help but smile.

"Oh, shut it."

"What's wrong with it? How about buddy, then?"

"No. That makes it sound like we watch football together."

"We could, you know. Go and see the 1966 World Cup."

"Only if you for once get the chips."

"I will."

It wouldn't be the same, she knew. But then, in time, nothing ever was. The tragedy and the beauty of it both. Somehow, she remembered that and the TARDIS whooshed low in agreement.

It might be something worthwhile even different and she let him take her hand.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

II

 **promise**  
 _n._ **1** declaration that one will give or do a certain thing **2** indication of future results  
 _v._ **1** make (a person) a promise, esp. to do or give (a thing) **2** seem likely, produce expectation of

II

FIN


End file.
